


The Land of Eternal Youth

by ariddletobesolved



Series: Helsa Week 2020 [4]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24057424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariddletobesolved/pseuds/ariddletobesolved
Summary: Tír na nÓg. He had heard about the land from his mother's bedtime story. As he grew older he stopped believing in the tale, until he came across a beautiful maiden in the forest.For Helsa Week 2020. Day 4: Fantasy.
Relationships: Elsa/Hans (Disney)
Series: Helsa Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799497
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	The Land of Eternal Youth

He knew the forest like the back of his hand.

While some people found the place rather spooky, with stories about trolls and fairies guarding the forest circulating among the villagers, it was like another safe house for him. Even his duty as a prince—the youngest of thirteen wouldn't stop him from riding his horse towards the beautiful place. Often he visited the forest just to run away from his lessons, or simply to avoid his brothers. But that day, it was something else that brought him there.

'Cormac heard it!' He heard a heavily bearded man barging in the pub. 'The singing! It might be the fairy he said.'

The whole pub was filled with laughter, making the man scoffed before adding, 'Fine. But if the Lady of Death comes to knock on your door, don't come to me crying.'

'Oi, Colm!' The pub landlord came to approach the bearded man. 'Cormac is just a child. He might be hallucinating. Why don't you just take a seat and I'll bring you beer?'

'But it's true!' Colm protested. 'I was there by the apple trees, and I saw a maiden on a white horse with me own eyes.'

The pub landlord laughed, patting the man on the back, finding it to be a joke. 'Look, I know it's been so hard since yer bird passed away, but you saw no maiden, pal. Besides, what kind of maiden ride a horse on her own in the forest?'

 _A magical maiden, that's what._ Overhearing the conversation made him feel a sudden urge to go and see for himself. He wasn't the one believing in rumours, but he knew the forest held something he couldn't even lay his finger on, something mythical. So he exited the pub and rode to the said place.

The apple trees grew only in a certain area of the forest. To reach there, he needed to go through the gate of mist which surrounded the area, then followed the strawberry bushes until he found a path that led to the coast. As his brown stallion trotted down the path, he saw the familiar spot he used to visit, a big stone surrounded by bushes of heather with a view of the open sea. It was still there, along with the memories.

The day he found the spot was the day his mother died of illness. He was so devastated he brought Sitron, his stallion best friend, galloping away from the castle. He wept like a child, still not accepting the fact that the only person who cared for him was gone. Back in the castle, he couldn't freely show how he felt, his emotions, but in that remote place, he was comforted by the serenity, one he couldn't find anywhere else. Ever since that day, the spot became his personal sanctuary.

He would recite Hamlet there, pretending to get in the character, wanting to dethrone the king. On some days, it was Macbeth. And fantasy became a dream, as he often pictured himself with a crown, bearing a responsibility as a leader of a foreign kingdom somewhere. He could be king, he liked to think so. After all, he was well educated as a prince. After he married a princess, or perhaps a young queen, he would be king. He would live a happily ever after away from home.

Other days, when he wasn't dreaming of his own coronation, he would sit on the stone and faced the open sea. His emerald green eyes would gaze far away at the horizon, in search of a certain magical land from his mother's stories before bed. A land where time stood still, and there was nothing but happiness and youth. He would love to find that place, and maybe he could live there. But once he turned eighteen, he no longer believed the story—or at least he gave up believing it.

The sound of leaves rustling and twigs breaking broke his train of thoughts. He quickly dismounted from his horse and made his way forward, leading Sitron by the reins.

_Ah-ah-ah-ah_

Hearing the voice, he put up his guard. It could be anything, a trap set by the _Aos Sí_ —the supernatural race living in the forest. He didn't want to take risks, after all.

_Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah_

He followed the voice like it was an epiphany, but he stopped abruptly once he found the source. From beyond the trees, a white mare emerged. Sitting on the creature was the most beautiful maiden he had ever seen, with hair as light as the sun, and skin as fair as the snow. Her big blue eyes were sharp, penetrating his soul. She was wearing a beautiful white gown which sparkled under the sunlight, with trousers underneath. The dress hugged her upper body perfectly, showing off the milky skin of her shoulders.

'Prince Hans.' She said, her voice sounded angelic, like a melody he could listen for hours. 'I have been expecting you.'

He was stunned, and with a brow raised, he asked. 'How do you know my name, lady?'

She flashed him the most beautiful smile that sent shivers down his spine, making his knees weak. 'I have heard about you.'

Still keeping his guard up, Hans fired the next question. 'Why don't you come down from your horse so we can have a proper conversation?' He thought that perhaps it would be safer if they spoke eye to eye, on the same level.

'I can't.' The maiden shook her head. 'If I come down, I won't be able to return to my home.'

'So, you're not from here.' He concluded. Then where is she from?

She began to circle him, still riding on her mare, looking as majestic as a queen.

'I come from Tír na nÓg, somewhere across the ocean.' His green eyes widened at the mention of the magical place. Tír na nÓg, the Land of Eternal Youth. As she turned to the open sea, he followed her gaze with his eyes. But instead of an island, he saw nothing but water.

 _Those who live in the land never age._ His mother told. _They know no illness, no sorrow, no pain, only perpetual happiness. Everyone is young and beautiful. The land itself was covered with blooming flowers which never die, orchards of fruit trees, and forests with dripping honey. The climate is temperate, and days are filled with sports and mead. No harm shall come to the sacred ground of Tír na nÓg. People stay young and nothing but happiness fills their entire life._

'The place is not real.'

It was told that to reach the land, you have to cross a stretch of water and travel beneath the waves. But nobody had arrived there safely—mostly missing. Perhaps it was because he had never really travelled across the ocean himself.

The maiden tilted her head, half smiling. 'But I see that deep down you still believe it is real, young Prince.'

'I stop believing. I used to search for the land, but I've never found it. Turns out it is merely a children fairy tale.'

'But something about you is not telling the truth. You do know that the place is real. You hope so.' She stated with determination.

Did he? Well, even if he did, he wouldn't admit it out loud.

'What is your name?' It was an attempt to distract himself.

'Elsa.'

Hans was drawn to her, he knew he was. Who wouldn't be? Such beauty was too good to be true. But was she telling the truth? Just because she is beautiful didn't mean that it is okay to lie. Yet there was something about the beautiful maiden. As he tried to see a bigger picture, he noticed that she didn't fit in this world. She was an odd addition in the forest, like a diamond in the sea of rocks, a beautiful rose among the thorns. Beauty like hers only came from a magical place.

A sudden noise of horses neighing startled the two. Hans stole a brief glance towards the direction where it came from and saw two familiar guards on their black stallions. Oh, no. They couldn't be here.

'Come with me, Prince Hans.'

'What?' The invitation took him by surprise. His eyes widened, not believing his ears. 'I can't just come with you!'

No, he couldn't. She was a stranger and he was a prince.

Elsa looked at him with knitted brows. 'So you would rather suffer for the rest of your life and let them torture you?'

'It's not that.'

He tried to find a logical explanation. But what was it that hold him back? Was it his ambition to become a king someday? Or was he simply not knowing what he wants anymore with the new discovery? He couldn't decide.

'I see.' The flicker in her blue eyes dimmed.

For a brief second he swore he heard a hint of sadness as she spoke. His chest felt heavy, for he didn't mean to make her sad. The clattering sound of hooves came closer, making him turned his head to see if they were coming any closer. Just when he looked back, she was not there, as if she had disappeared. His heart swelled with guilt.

As expected, it was the castle guards, assigned to escort him back. It almost reminded him of that one time he ran away for two days because one of his brothers, Cian, humiliated him in front of foreign dignitaries visiting the castle. He was wandering around the forest, before some guards came to take him home.

He mounted on Sitron's back, and began to trot along with the two guards who approached him first. But when he saw three of his brothers, Angus, Alexander, and Albert, his brows knitted in confusion. It was nothing like their characters to go and find their youngest brother, unless they were up to something. Learning from the past experience, he knew better than to ask, so he followed them back to the castle quietly.

'Get down now, Hans!' Angus suddenly said, glaring at him.

He frowned. 'We are only at the gates.'

'I said, get down!'

Dismounting from the horse, his frown only deepened, brows furrowed. That was when a guard took Sitron's rein rather abruptly, startling him and the horse.

'No!' He yelped, but the guard was already leading Sitron away, following Angus, who was still sitting his own stallion. He stormed at the guard, and tried to snatch the rein from his grasp. 'Where are you taking him?'

Angus turned at him with a sneer. 'What a fine stallion you have, Hans. So I'm sparing him from you. The Duke of Fermanagh is looking for a horse, so I help him. What do you think I was doing when I came along to make sure you come back with the guards?'

'You're selling my horse?' Hans was angry. 'You!'

He was about to lunge at his brother, when two guards quickly held him back, dragging him away towards the castle. From afar, he could see Angus dismounted from his horse and offered a greeting to the Duke while presenting Sitron. He was heartbroken, but he tried to hold back a sob, not wanting to cry in front of his brothers.

'Gather yourself together, little brother.' He heard Alexander sneered. 'It's just a horse.'

That night, Hans refused to come to dinner. Even after Lars, one of his brothers, knocked on his door gently, asking if he was alright, he remained firm on his ground. Lars might told him once that he cared about him, but he had never stopped the other eleven from bullying him, so Hans did no longer like him. Once he was left alone, he leaned his back against the door, sitting on the ground. He ran a hand through his auburn hair in frustration. The room he was in felt too spacious for him, and the familiar loneliness began to creep in.

Sitron was gone. His best friend was forced out of his life, sold to a duke, who wouldn't take care of him as well as he would. He no longer had a friend to talk to, one that would listen to his ramblings about his dreams, his wishes, without judging him. Sitron was a good listener, very supportive of his dream in becoming a king somewhere far away. In fact, should the time come, he would take the stallion with him to the said kingdom for a moral support as he tried to woo a princess. Now, he just felt so hopeless he didn't know if he wanted to be a king anymore. His friend was taken away, his mother was dead, and he was trapped alone in that hell hole.

Mother, what do I do?

Thinking about his mother dearest made his heart ache. She was the only member of his family who really cared about him. He remembered that one time he had a fight with his brothers, and he ran away, taking Sitron with him, not caring if there was a storm approaching. The night ended up with him soaking wet and catching cold. Her mother was scolding him, but he knew, it was only because she was scared should anything happen to him.

She told him stories, fairy tales about magical beings, magical beasts, and magical places from all around the world. But his favourite had always been the same one, The Land of Eternal Youth. Something was telling him that the place was indeed real, and after his encounter with Elsa that day, he felt the familiar tug in his stomach, the one he felt whenever he wanted to run away.

So, Hans did what he thought was right, to follow his heart. No, he wasn't running away. He was trying to escape from his horrible life, to seek an asylum somewhere else, the place Elsa came from, if the magical land did exist. He wouldn't have to feel the pain, the loneliness, and the sorrow. He would be happy. Then, he ran. Once he sneaked out of the gates, past those incompetent guards, he ran as fast as his feet could carry to the forest. He was sprinting through the mist, following the strawberry bushes, and finally he spotted the apple trees.

'Elsa!'

He shouted breathlessly, only greeted by the quietness of the night. She couldn't be that far.

'Elsa, where are you?'

No, what if she was just another figment of his imagination? He couldn't face the truth. But before he could think of the worst possibility, a clattering sound of hooves was breaking the wall of silence, making him turn his head towards the sound.

'I knew you'd come, my Prince.'

Hans couldn't breathe, it felt like something had taken the air away from his lungs, for the beauty before him was too much. She sat the mare, still looking as majestic as the first time he saw her, with her long blonde hair hung to her waist. Her skin was glowing under the dim moonlight, and her pink lips curved into a smile.

'Take me.'

It was all he could manage. He would give his soul for the goddess, if she wanted him to.

Elsa offered her hand to him. 'Gladly.'

There was a spark when he clasped her hand in his and climbed on the mare, he was sure of it. Seating himself behind her, he placed his hands on her waist. The close proximity made his heart palpitating inside his ribcage. It allowed him to breathe in her scent, something like an early winter morning, and he swore he'd never love any season as much as he loved winter.

'I hope you are ready, my love.' She said with affection. 'We are going to Tír na nÓg.'

He was born ready. After all, nothing was holding him back from a new adventure, a new life ahead of him. With a slight kick, they trotted down the hill, and once they reached the shore, the horse began to gallop across the ocean far, far away from the land to a whole new world, a place nobody knew existed.

_Finally, Hans is free._

* * *

**Tír na nÓg is a part of the Irish myths and legends. It can be found in various stories, such as The Warrior Óisin. It means 'the land of youth' in the Irish language.**


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